A Brush With Obsession

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A Brush With Obsession Page 20

by Theresa Papa


  My whole body is the consistency of a wet noodle when Nico finally sets me down on the bench in the shower to wash my hair and body. He is gentle, taking care of me like I’m the most precious thing in the world to him. My heart bursts with love when I look up at his wavy black hair, framing his chiseled features. His long eyelashes clump together as the water trickles down his forehead to frame the eyes that twinkle with so much desire and love for me. He hypnotizes me with those eyes. From the first second I met him, the power in his gaze could make me do anything he asks. It expresses all the thoughts going through his mind. When I look into them, they convey my future of happiness, fidelity, and love.

  After we dry off, Nico steps into light blue drawstring pajama pants, and I slip a soft white sheer cotton nighty on. It reaches mid-thigh with a soft eyelet at the neckline that makes it girl-next-door sexy not slutty sexy. He looks at me again with an expression that I could live my lifetime basking in. Now that’s the reaction I was hoping for when I picked out the nighty at the store.

  “You are so exquisite,” he says in adoration. Nico kisses me softly, raises me into his arms, then places me in bed and climbs in next to me. He pulls me close and holds me tight as I drift off to sleep.

  Chapter 45

  Nico Pope

  The concrete floor is damp and cold under my hands and knees. She forces me to kneel before her, relinquishing all my power. The goal is clear that she wants to break me, own me. I keep my head down with no desire to look up at the hideous sight of her. There is a way to get my control back, and I’ll win. I have a plan. I’m stronger. She won’t be able to fight back, and I will win. I must win. She laughs at me now as I become more and more angry. A small glance up at her and I wince at the ridiculous beach balls she had inserted in her chest. How can she think they’re sexy when they protrude over me like an awning? When she bends slightly, her fish lips spread across her tightly pulled face to taunt me. The thought that I would ever be attracted to her or want to touch her repulses me. We are alone in the room without her lackey assistant, so I take my chances. I pop up from the floor and grab her around the throat to squeeze the life out of her, to make her gasp for air through those ugly, bloated lips.

  When I awaken from the nightmare with a start, I decide to go to my home gym where I can beat something and picture Giselle’s face on it. The gloves are on my hands and landing punishing blows to the bag. Fuck, it’s time to tell her everything. I have to open myself up to her and let her in on all my past problems and how Giselle has triggered it once again in a different way. I can only hope she will understand and believe me. I guess this will be a true test of her love for me. Can she love a man like me who has been psychologically weak all my life? Someone who has had to use different mechanisms to cope and get through traumatic experiences. All the while keeping self-destruction at bay?

  Heavy breathing with sweat that pours off me, I pull off the boxing gloves and wipe myself down with a clean towel. The reflection in the mirror is a determined one. With my decision made, I head back to the bedroom to talk to Sam, but the bed is empty.

  I bolt into the hallway and straight to the living room. There are no lights on, but the breeze drifts in from the balcony door. Her silhouette shows in the moonlight as she leans on the railing facing the view of the city. When she turns, I put out my arms to her. She walks right into my embrace. I kiss her head and hold her tight. After a few minutes, she lifts her head, and her eyes search mine.

  “What happened? Did you have a nightmare?”

  I blow out a deep breath. “It’s time I tell you the whole story so you can understand. It was a nightmare brought on by a recent encounter that I need to tell you about. Let’s sit on the sofa and get comfortable so we can talk.”

  We sit on the sofa, and I pull her into my lap. She snuggles into me, and I rest my chin atop her head and hold her tight in my arms.

  “My therapist, Dr. Baxter, revealed to me many things about my childhood. The main one was the fact that my mother dying made me feel like I had no control over anything, which made me fear I was helpless and alone. And then how I fought through my whole school age years to gain control of every detail. First, to become an excellent student, and second, to finish early and become a lawyer as was expected.”

  She interrupts me. “Anyone who aspires to become a lawyer or even the medical careers has to be a control freak and has to have at least a little bit of OCD. It takes those attributes to get through the crap we have to do to achieve those goals.”

  I nod, kiss the top of her head and continue my story. “In my case, that was my cure for my issues at that time and how I dealt with the insecurities that would creep up on me. But then everything with Elizabeth’s trial happened, and I had a horrendous decision to make that took away my control. There really was no choice or decision because I could only save her the way that I chose to. Once again, I began to falter, and I felt powerless. It snowballed into the struggle of how to gain back my power over my life. Should I leave the firm and risk it all with the salon? But once again in doing so, I was left alone. Ariana left me, and for a while, my family was angry too. But power was built back up inside me slowly when I became a success and felt secure once again. All that was missing was someone to share it with. I was still alone.”

  Sam squeezes me tightly, her palms flat against my side. I sigh and continue. “There were the women I told you about before and then Lisa, but no one I had any deeper feelings for until you walked into my life and turned my world right side up.”

  I can feel her smile at my words as my chin rests on her scalp. She pivots her body in my lap so she now faces me. Her gorgeous big brown eyes are sleepy when she looks into mine.

  “You’re the one who has taken away my loneliness. The woman I want to give the world and more to because I’m completely devoted and in love with you.”

  Samantha places both her palms against my cheeks and kisses me very sweetly. Her forehead rests against mine afterward as she murmurs softly, “I’m in love with you too. Now that means that since we’ve been together, everything you’ve needed and wanted is in place for you to be secure and happy with me here to share it with. Correct?”

  I nod my head adamantly. Sam continues.

  “So what caused your nightmare tonight?”

  I take a deep breath and gently place Sam beside me while I rise to my feet. I pace in front of the French doors and launch into my description of the events that occurred the night when Giselle drugged me at the club.

  “She wants you to be her submissive?” Samantha laughs as she gets to her feet and approaches me. She puts her palms on my chest and looks up at me.

  “I’m sorry to tell her, but you are the sweetest most giving man I have ever met, and you have an enormous heart. And you have no problem talking about feelings and knowing what a woman wants and needs more than any other man in the world. When we make love, you make sure I have multiple orgasms before you even take pleasure in one yourself. You also make me feel worshipped every second that I’m in your presence. But! But absolutely none of that should ever. Ever! Be construed as you being a good candidate for Giselle’s submissive in the bedroom or anywhere!”

  I smile down at her and put my arms around her gratefully.

  “Thanks, beautiful. To hear you say that really makes me feel better.”

  “So wait, you feel better because the thought of possibly being a submissive makes you feel like less of a man? It attacks your masculinity?”

  “I admit that it does feel that way, but I’m not sure if I’m just confused about it all inside my head. To bring forth all my control issues makes me feel weak anyway.”

  Samantha continues her clarification.

  “A true submissive is someone who willingly decides to surrender their power to another person. So contrary to what most people believe, it has nothing to do with masculinity at all. There are big business moguls who control huge corporations every day that become submissi
ve just to relax and let someone else have control for a while. Or for example look at Justin Timberlake’s song ‘Bringing Sexy Back.’ He talks about being a slave and shackles, but did it emasculate his image? No, he is as hot as ever.”

  After a kiss on the forehead, I begin to pace again to continue my difficult explanation. “But you have to understand that it didn’t take much for her to plant the seed of doubt in my head. There’s a stereotype that men are sexual creatures, and when any woman touches them, it arouses a sexual response and creates pleasurable sensations. But that is so far from the truth because it was all I could do not to puke all over her. When she started to fondle me against my will, it messed with my brain. As you might imagine, that will definitely bring up anyone’s control deprivation issues. Thank goodness, I was in the room with the breakaway cuffs to allow my escape from psycho rapist Giselle.”

  I worked through the entire filmstrip of negative shit in my head. “My therapist has given me tools to use when control has been taken away from me. That is how I maintain an even ground now as an adult. I even thought about when we had sex on the boat, and you kind of took control. That was hot as sin …”

  Samantha waves her hands in the air and stops me midsentence.

  “Wait, wait, wait. You do not believe that the reason I was on top initiating sex was because I wanted to make you submissive? Listen, there are things we can do in the bedroom that might seem like I’m calling the shots, and maybe one day we might even enjoy you tied up or something. I don’t care how far we go, but it will never turn you into Giselle’s idea of a sub. It’s just playing around with sensation, feelings, and trust to make the sex more erotic. It certainly in no way challenges your masculinity or makes you look weak. Sweetheart, when two people love each other as we do, they compromise in all aspects of life. Everything is give and take, and each of us have a turn on top, whether it is with sex or to decide which restaurant to go to on Saturday night. It’s the only healthy way to have a relationship that works in my book.”

  “Well, just the fact that you rocked my world with oral sex and that sensual mouth of yours during the encounter is enough to make any man feel he’s the one being worshipped. Far from Giselle’s submissive.” I kiss her and wink. She laughs and walks back over to sit down on the sofa.

  “See now there’s two ways to look at that theory. Most men would probably consider it a submissive act for the woman to give him oral sex. Reasons are that most of the time the girl is on her knees before him, and the guy has his hands knotted in her hair. But I happen to know that women sometimes feel empowered when performing oral sex on a man. They are touched by the vulnerability of the man as he experiences his orgasm and the fact that she is given free rein over his sensitive areas. The woman is proud that she has the power to get him hard and can give him satisfaction, and consequently she becomes aroused herself.” Sam gives me a wink and bats her eyelashes, looking sideways at me.

  I walk back over to sit next to her and pull her once again onto my lap. I smirk, giving her my best flirty face.

  “Well, I had no idea about the girls’ side of things in regard to that issue. So if it pleases you that much, I’m at your mercy whenever the mood strikes your fancy.”

  She laughs out loud and pushes my shoulder with her palm. I wrap my arms tightly around her and squeeze, making her giggle more.

  We take a break from the conversation, and I go into the kitchen to get us both a glass of orange juice. The sun crests slowly above the horizon and flickers across small peaks of water in Lake Michigan. Clear gray blue skies roll out as far as the eye can see. Sam is at the railing on the balcony again when I join her and hand over a glass of juice. We stand there to observe the glorious sunrise together for a few minutes before Sam asks me another question.

  “You worked everything out in your head, and things were alright. What happened to induce the nightmare tonight?”

  While I gaze out over the lake, I describe the events of my day.

  “At lunchtime, Jaxson bailed on me, and I had a cancellation, so with some time to myself, I came up here to call Tony. Afterward, I was on the computer but must've fallen asleep. When I woke up, it was from a nightmare about Giselle.”

  “What causes the nightmares?”

  “That’s not all that happened. As soon as I woke up, my phone beeped with a picture. I’m not sure if it was the phone or the nightmare that woke me. Sam, the picture was one of the instant ones, it was of Giselle dressed in her dominatrix sex outfit with a smirk on those ugly fish lips.”

  “Oh my God! She’s obsessed with you. Do you know what? She made me sit with her at lunch today when no other tables were open. Was she following me? She brought up the fact that since you’re my boss, you give me special privileges at the salon. She stressed the fact that we spend a great deal of time together now. It caught me off guard because how does she know that, when she left the salon before we got together?”

  “She must be making it her business to keep up on what I’m doing and whom I spend time with. Did it feel like she was a threat to you in some way?”

  “No, she was her usual snobby, dressed in designer head to toe, condescending self. But not a threat. She studied me closely as if under a microscope.”

  “She’s just crazy; I don’t suppose she’s actually dangerous, though. But if she approaches you again, try to stay as far away as possible.”

  Samantha takes my face in her hands and looks deeply into my eyes.

  “I want you to believe me when I tell you that all of the lovely, romantic things that you do and say from your heart have not in any way, shape, or form made you any less of a virile, sexy, masculine man. You have a gift of deep sensitivity to other people’s feelings as well as expressing your own. This is what I fell in love with, and it’s what sets you apart from other men in an amazing magnetic way.”

  I smile, and since I’ve never been able to take compliments that are so heartfelt and sincere without getting uncomfortable, I resort to joking with her.

  “So it wasn’t just my firm ass when you checked me out in the office?”

  Sam giggles but remains serious. “It’s the whole package that I’m in love with.” She kisses me with her perfect pink lips, and I know how lucky I am to have this woman in my life.

  ~~~

  When I have completely shaved my face and I’m about to put on aftershave, Sam bolts into the bathroom and hops on the counter to rub her face against mine, moaning loudly. Sneaky minx must have been watching and waiting for the second I finished. She loves my freshly shaved jaw smashed against her own. This is a ritual I could get used to since it’s the second time she’s tackled me while shaving, and I enjoy the playfulness and intimacy of it.

  As we continue to stroke our faces against each other, it becomes more passionate than playful and turns into kisses that fuel my arousal. My hands travel to the hem of her thin tank top and pull it over her head. I watch in the mirror behind her as her dark silky tresses tumble down over her delicate shoulders. The sensual arch of her back as I pay attention to each of her lovely breasts reflects in the mirrors on both sides of the vanity. Her petite fingers untie the string on my cotton pajama pants, causing them to puddle at my feet. My stomach muscles tighten at her grasp, her warm hands, and her fingers stroking to pleasure me. I could sense a smile form on Sam’s lips as we’re kissing when she abruptly slides off the counter all the way down to her knees in front of me. Her mouth takes over where her hands began. My head falls back, and a groan releases from my chest. She makes me feel like a king. Control has nothing to do with a loving, trustworthy, caring, and healthy relationship.

  Chapter 46

  Samantha Marconi

  It’s surprising how energetic I feel this morning on my way to school, considering the fact that I didn’t get much sleep. Nico’s penthouse is close enough for me to walk to the Community Law Center where I will sit in on some civil legal cases this morning. I walk through the throngs of
shoppers and workers bustling along the sidewalks of the Magnificent Mile in the busy metropolis of downtown Chicago. Everyone remains engrossed in their own affairs, with the exception of one person, Giselle. She doesn’t see me spot her, and I turn my head quickly so as not to raise her suspicions. God knows I don’t want her to talk to me, so I slip into the coffee shop and get in line for a cup. Maybe it’s a coincidence. Yeah, right! This psycho bitch is following me.

  When I leave with my mocha coffee in hand, Giselle is nowhere around. I breathe a sigh of relief and make my way safely to school. The cases I’m allowed to sit in on that day are interesting and further solidify my decision to specialize in family law.

  That afternoon, Nico wants to go out to dinner early at a cute little restaurant in Lincoln Park on Clark Street. He skipped lunch to save room for the dinner he planned.

  “The novelty and good food are worth the wait here, but I find it easier to skip lunch and come before the crowds,” he says once we’re seated. I let Nico order for us since he has been here before. Then he puts down the menu and picks up his wine glass, gesturing for me to do the same.

  “To you, my love. I’m a happy man with you in my life. Thank you for making me recognize that I need to concentrate on us and let all those negative thoughts go.” We clink glasses and sip the wine. It made me feel so good to be able to help Nico to understand that what Giselle did to him was her psychological problem, not his. It should not be allowed to change him in any way.

  “That’s what I’m here for, so make sure you talk to me right away next time.”

  “I promise I will.” His smile warms my heart. Then he changes the subject.

  “Hey, you know rumor has it, the house above this restaurant served as a lookout post for Al Capone’s henchmen.”

 

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